


Ending the Hegira

by angeldescendant



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, One Last Drive, Reunions, bf angst week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 16:11:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17686748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angeldescendant/pseuds/angeldescendant
Summary: Years later, Yue sees Blanca again.





	Ending the Hegira

**Author's Note:**

> -for [lauren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/knoxoursavior/pseuds/knoxoursavior)
> 
> -inspired by The Worm King's Lullaby by Richard Siken
> 
> -for BF Angst Week Day 4: Years/Kill

_hegira_ (hi-ji're). noun. A journey or trip especially when undertaken as a means of escaping from an undesirable or dangerous environment; or as a means of arriving at a highly desirable destination.  
  


(from Anna Sexton, 45 Mercy Street)

* * *

Lee Yue Lung knew the moment he saw his new chauffeur in front that this would be his last drive. It was a colourfully late evening in Kowloon, painted in neon and blood orange. It reeked of smells from the markets as well.

 

“How much did the Vietnamese pay you?” he drawled, folding his bony arms. He no longer wore his changpao and would not bother to under the damn humidity of this wretched excuse of a country. “It must have been quite a sum to get your ass out of the beaches and your caramel coloured girls.”

 

The man said nothing as he shifted gears of Yue’s Benz. “Aren’t you going to contact anyone?”

 

Yue chuckled. He recalled a moment a lifetime ago in a warehouse when he thought he knew how the world runs. His supposed arch-nemesis also was given a chance to defend himself, shrewd and ruthless as he was, only to stand powerless under his ex-teacher’s mercy. “I don’t want to make too much of a fuss. It was the same with him, remember?”

 

Funny, how he talked to Sing just a few minutes ago. How he kept prattling on about his son’s diapers and how he and Eiji had a hard time babysitting it while his wife was away. Never really got a chance to talk then and he did not really mind. He liked listening to Sing’s malarkey.

 

He wondered if Eiji was on the other line too or if he even cared.

 

“I envy him,” Yue said. “Even in death, I can never hold a candle against his sun.”

 

“I thought you’ve changed, but you still haven’t kicked out that bad habit of yours, Your Highness.”

 

Yue’s eyes darted back outside. They were at the port now. Hong Kong is shaping out to be that New York when he was sixteen. “It’s hard to quit most of the time. I’m trying though.” He looked at the dashboard mirror. He was the epitome of bone structure, beauty, and hollow, sunken eyes.

 

“It shows,” his chauffeur offers a smile.

 

“You’re trying to reel me in again.” Back in New York, it was easy for him to be enamoured. Being ruffled was almost a routine. He never really got along with tender-hearted bastards like Eiji and Sing. He hated the pity in their eyes when they look at him. It’s often as if they see something beyond, as if there’s an ocean just behind him, vast and wide.

 

The night seemed vast and wide.

 

“How nostalgic,” Blanca said as he shifted gears again. Their car started to slow at the end of the port. He was making things easier for him. Or maybe he was just cocky that he can get away. “This place reminds me of that time years ago.”

 

“It really doesn’t go away, does it?” Yue said. Blanca lowered the windows but raises it up again because of the stench. Nostalgia has an effect with his nose. The Hudson smelled like roses then. “The past always catches up, one way or another.”

 

“Memories, that is,” Blanca looked at his slivers of white around his head. His hair was shorter now like his was. “Your body pays the price, unfortunately.”

 

Yue did not answer and kept staring at the skyline. He thought about the Statue of Liberty and the view of Manhattan from there. He saw Blanca’s photograph of them there. Their happiness was frozen in a picture. Before Blanca left, he thought of demanding that as payment for his treachery.

 

He should hate Blanca for doing that to him. Or for Sing in always choosing Eiji over him even in mundane matters. He had not forgotten any of it but he did not hold it against them. He wondered why.

 

“The irony,” Yue said, voice droll. “How cruelly poetic for you to choose me as your last mission.”

 

Blanca nodded, eyes also affix on a bright Hong Kong, at the lights rippling against the black ocean.

 

It was alright for people not to give you an answer to everything. Not everyone was lucky. Even a boss who had all the possible power and prestige. Like Dino. Like him.

 

Blanca seized a pistol from his bag. Yue gave him a tired smile. He should have chosen that damn Smith & Wesson.

 

“You’re too kind,” Yue said as he looked at his hands and then at Blanca’s face. Age was too compassionate for this mess of a man.

 

“This won’t hurt a bit, Your Highness,” Blanca said as he cocked the pistol almost tenderly towards his head.

 

He waited for the flashbacks to roll; his sins, his triumphs, his tragedies, the dregs of his wretched life. Like with Ash, he wondered whether someone will mourn for him aside from Sing, that loyal bitch. At least he hoped Eiji will visit his grave, eventually.

 

“We are very close now, little moon. Thank you for shining on me.”

 

“Your way with words… you damn old man…”

 

Yue kept his tear-stained face at Blanca. Asked for a kiss. At least his sixteen-year-old self will get his due.

 

Like his candle of a life, it was short and sweet.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> In Yasha, Yue was assassinated by the Vietnamese according to Sing. Rumors say Yue did not put up a fight when he died in the car. My friend said this might be a possible reason why.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [the night is endlessly dark (the moon has died)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17691944) by [completist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/completist/pseuds/completist)




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